


Sorry

by RobinTrigue



Category: NXT, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AU where Sami Zayn is El Generico, Angst, Fix-It, Fluff, I was going to leave it as angst but I couldn't resist, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Misunderstandings, Soulmate AU, beautiful wrestleboys making terrible decisions, which is a ridiculous concept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin Steen isn’t trying to peek under his best friend’s towel, but he sees anyway and there on his thigh is a soulmate mark and it looks like it starts with a K and like an idiot, he asks. “Hey Sami, I guess there isn’t any way it’s my name written on your thigh there?”</p><p>And what he wouldn’t give to be able to stop time, to take back his stupid words, to not have to see Sami’s shocked, guilty face as he glances down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sorry, Kev

Kevin Steen’s got his soulmate mark down his left side, easy enough to cover up with a vest or a dreaded singlet, but he’s pretty sure he’d have fallen in love even if his entire body was blank. He’d tried to resist it, sure, but how could he when Sami Zayn is so kind and funny and has such a glowing smile?

He’d first seen El Generico in the ring, and it had been such a good fight he’d wanted to befriend him on that basis alone. So when they’re in the break room after and Generico slips off his mask, introducing himself as Sami Zayn, Kevin’s already grinning and it gets even wider because he’s beautiful and the secret romantic in his heart had always hoped it would happen kind of like this.

Kevin hopes that maybe he wouldn’t fuck everything up for once. That is why people keep their soulmate marks covered, isn’t it? To keep from fucking this up? Maybe it’s meant to be something about discretion and patience, but he doesn’t care; Kevin’s nervous and Kevin’s happy and Kevin’s excited. When Sami laughs and talks about his favourite video games and growing up watching Raw and Wrestlemania, Kevin just wants to spend time with him forever. They become tag team partners. They travel the world. They share hotel rooms. There’s just one problem.

Sami never says anything to Kevin.

And Kevin knows he’s a fucking hypocrite because he’s not exactly parading around topless where Zayn can see, and waves off medics whenever he gets busted open during matches (thank god he’s got machismo coming out of his ass otherwise it’d look like well more than normal discretion). Kevin hasn’t said anything either. But the difference is, Sami Zayn is kind and funny and supportive and never gives up on himself or anyone; Kevin Steen is rude, abrasive, and just a little bit cruel. He tries to reign it in – sometimes he tells himself he even sees Sami enjoying it a little – but the fact remains that Sami Zayn shouldn’t worry about being Kevin’s soulmate. Sami’s probably _everyone’s_ soulmate. But Kevin has a lot of reason to believe his name will never be good enough for Sami’s calf or hip or ass or wherever his mark is, since those are the places he always keeps covered.

It’s when they’re towelling off after showers after some show in Japan – Sami was so excited to finally fight in Japan – that Kevin does spot some writing on his upper thigh, and that looks like a K, and the words are short and it was just for a second, not that he was trying to peek under his best friend’s towel or anything but it did look like a K and his head is a little dizzy with hope and elation. So he asks. Like a goddamned idiot, he asks.

“Hey Sami, uh, I guess there isn’t any way it’s my name written on your thigh there?”

And what he wouldn’t give to be able to stop time, to take back his stupid words, to not have to see Sami’s shocked, guilty face as he glances down his _naked, stunning_ body – and he wouldn’t need to, not when it’s your _skin_ , you know what it says – and Kevin’s suddenly aware that no matter how casual his tone was he’s just laid himself bare, right there all vulnerable and shit, ready to be stabbed through the heart by Sami’s gentle, awkward, _uh, no, sorry Kev._

Sorry Kev.

Sorry Kev.

Like he knew Kevin had been hoping for a different answer. Like Kevin’s just made a fucking fool of himself all these fucking years, and Sami’s about to put together exactly how much of a fool that is.

Kevin is suddenly very, very angry with the universe for putting _Sami fucking Zayn_ down his side in letters he can’t even tattoo over. He’s suddenly very, very angry at Sami, who probably fucking knew, Sami knows everything about him, for being so goddamn _nice_ to him all these years when Kevin’s just been his usual abrasive self. Kevin either deserves Sami or he doesn’t, and he’d thank the universe to make up its mind as to which it is.

 He decides to help matters along with a chair.

They stop being tag team partners, Kevin makes sure of that. Sami leaves him alone, he makes sure of that too, pretty thoroughly. Makes sure they’ll never be in the same ring, or even different rings within a hundred miles of each other. Generico’s not coming back. Sami’s not gonna forgive him. It’s fine. Kevin fights other people for a while. He’s still very, very angry.

* * *

 Sami really is happy when he hears Kev’s coming to NXT. Part of him still wishes it did say Kevin Steen on his thigh just like all those years ago because Kevin – there’s something about him. His face. His smile. The tender way he holds you when you’ve both done so well and you’re a _team_. His fucking ruthless and often disgusting smacktalk – Sami still gets a teenaged thrill when he thinks about Kev spitting on their opponents or spraying snot, how Kevin just doesn’t seem to care. He’s the best wrestler Sami’s ever known, and as ruthless in friendship as he is in the ring.

And then there was the betrayal. It’s hard to think about. It’s not as hard to think about as it was last year, and that was still easier than the year before, or the one before that.

RoH DVD sales went way up, so that’s good. Sami’s pretty sure that’s why Kevin did it.

And they stayed in contact, sort of, through Christmas cards. Sami misses him. Adrian thought it was fucked up of Sami to say it, but it’s true. He misses his friend. They could put all the bad things behind them now, they didn’t matter anymore, now all Sami wanted was to – well to do what they’d always done. Not travel the world, since NXT was based in Full Sail. Not share hotel rooms either, staying in one place meant it was easier to keep a single apartment. Maybe not be tag team partners this time around, Sami was in the middle of his championship bid, but – but still, he wanted himself and Kev to be like the old days again. Whatever they were. He was bored waiting for this ‘Kevin Owens’ soulmate to turn up; Sami had lived enough of his life and seen enough of his goals within reach that all he really wanted from fate was his old friend Kevin Steen back.

Kevin Steen didn’t seem as eager to see him. When they bumped into each other at Full Sail – Kevin hadn’t texted Sami to tell him when he started, even though Sami had put his number in the last card he’d sent – Kev looked surprised to see Sami, like he’d forgotten Sami even worked there despite Sami headlining what felt like every other NXT show.

When he finally manages to corner Kevin, their conversation is stilted at best.

 “Hey Mister Wrestling!” he shouts, and Kevin jumps three feet straight up from where he’s standing in front of the coffee cart. He turns, whole body tensing like he’s ready for a fight right there in the hallway. Sami ignores this and stands open for a hug. “Why haven’t you come to say hi to me, man?”

Kevin stares at him blankly, and Sami draws his arms back in, trying for a handshake since a hug is apparently off the table. “You finding your way around okay? Not irritating the bosses too much just yet?”

Wrestling’s worst nightmare Kevin Steen takes Sami’s outstretched hand gingerly like it’s a rattlesnake, shaking for just a second before letting go.

“Yeah, seem to be doing alright,” he says, looking over his shoulder anxiously to see if his drink was ready yet.

“That’s great! What have you got on today?”

“Hunter’s having me cut a promo. We’re talking new names.”

“Good luck, I hate promos; but then you were always a better talker than me. Is the plan that a new name means a fresh start?”

Kevin all but throws his cash at the barista before rushing out of sight before Sami’s even finished speaking.

* * *

After that Kevin seems to avoid him a little less, or a little less blatantly, or just the same amount but seems happier to see Sami when he’s unable to dodge the interaction. It’s hard to tell which. But Sami’s glad to see him all the same, and hopes Kevin’s glad to see Sami for real. Kevin seems angrier, rougher than when they’d first met a dozen years ago, but he seems like that with everyone. Sami tries to be nicer, not to soften him – as if he would ever want a softened version of Kevin Steen – but to let him know it’s okay and that their friendship can survive.

Sami feels like his efforts are paying off, because within the month he and Kevin are nearly able to have a normal conversation when he catches Kev hurriedly trying to wipe down his equipment as soon as Sami walks into the gym.

“So, do you feel ready for your big TV debut next week?” he asks, and Kevin snorts as though he can’t even bother to be offended.

“It’s not like it’ll be a hard match; I told Regal to start me off at my level but he said I have to ‘work my way up’ just like everybody else.” To Sami’s surprise, Kevin finishes cleaning his machine but stays to keep talking. “It’s bullshit. I’m here to win.”

Sami couldn’t help a chuckle; he and every other newbie had been starstruck by the prestige of the WWE, by the fancy ring and the bright lights. He’d really missed Kevin’s attitude. “What, you expected to just walk onto Raw and beat Cena on your first night?”

“I could, you know.” Sami just smiles, because he wants to laugh that one out of the park since Cena’s been pinned what, twice since the Rock? But he can’t laugh with Kevin standing right there in front of him with that angry fire in his eyes. Kev’s telling the truth.

“Yeah, you could. You’re the toughest wrestler I’ve ever met.”

Kevin winces for some reason and looks away. “’Sides, what are you talking to me for? You’re the one with the big redemption arc going. You’ve been given an actual match that _matters_.”

“Hey, your first match on live TV is a pretty big deal,” Sami starts, but Kevin rolls his eyes so he moves on. “Yeah, I guess I have staked a lot on my match with Adrian. I hope I can beat him this time.”

Kevin splutters angrily, and Sami’s surprised because he can’t remember when Kev last let his guard down like this around him. “You _hope_ you can beat him? Sami, the only reason you aren’t the champion right now is because Neville’s so chickenshit he’s had to cheat every single time he’s faced you!”

“No, Adrian doesn’t cheat, it was -”

“Bullshit!” says Kevin loudly, gesturing widely enough that other people in the gym were starting to look around.

“Come on, Adrian’s a really talented opponent,” insists Sami, and he means it, but he’s also smiling because it has been so long since Kevin’s worked himself up in a righteous lather. _We’re gonna kick their asses Generico, who the hell do they think they are_. _.._

And just like that it stops, Kevin kicking at his machine and walking away. “He can’t be that good if he’s only on NXT,” he mutters, and Sami frowns trying to figure out went wrong.

“Hey Kev, good luck if I don’t see you before Takeover!” he calls, and Kevin waves over his shoulder without turning back around.

* * *

Sami’s backstage, trying desperately to relax. He needs calm, he needs quiet, he needs everything it’s nigh impossible to get at a live show. He needs to beat Adrian; Adrian’s last betrayal stung, and Sami can’t help the passing thought that maybe there’s something wrong with him if all his friends keep betraying him. But the thought is wiped from his mind when he hears the cheer go up for his best friend’s first WWE match and JoJo says Kevin _Owens_ –

And everything falls into place because it was Kev, it was Kev all along, and Sami’s kind of an idiot because he could have _asked_ at any time this last month _hey Kev, so what name did you decide on_ and they could have talked and Sami could have finally gotten up the courage to hug him, hold him like back when they were a team and they were _good_ – but Sami’s going to fight Adrian in no time at all and the clock is counting down and he’s fairly certain William Regal doesn’t reschedule main events for overdue personal epiphanies.

Kevin wins because of course he does, Sami never doubted him for a second even before his heart had started filling with butterflies, but he’s immediately whisked away by medics fussing over his broken nose and Sami needs to _concentrate._

He wonders, as Adrian stands over him with the heavy metal belt in his hands, if he could have won the match if he hadn’t been so distracted, but _no_ and _NO_ and _THE MATCH ISN’T OVER YET,_ and Sami’s filled with that burst of energy that’s always there when he needs it most and somehow, it happens. And somehow he’s climbing on the ropes with the belt in his hand, and he hears commentary saying _his_ Kevin was coming down the ramp to congratulate him and Sami could sing.

It’s not going to happen now, it can happen later, the talk, later when it’s quiet and they’re alone and happy with the belt and then he can tell him _it was always you Kev_ and what would even happen then? But Sami doesn’t have time to worry because Kevin is holding him just like the good old days, and they’re pressing small kisses to each other’s faces even with the cameras on, and Cass hoists him up on his shoulders and the audience is cheering and Sami is so, so happy.

* * *

 Kevin didn’t know what he was thinking, coming to NXT when he’d spent the last two years trying to avoid Sami Zayn’s elated smile, but whatever he’d thought he could handle, he was wrong. He’d let himself get too close. He’d forgotten that he was Kevin and Sami was still Sami. Luckily he’d remembered in time to fuck things up again before they went too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robin here, just wanting to remind everyone at home that it’s bad to powerbomb people just because you have a crush on them. Do not be like Kevin.


	2. Sorry, Sami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s four days before Kevin finally shows up at the hospital, the wilting Get Well Soon balloon in his hand at least a day old. He either stole it from some kid’s room or he’d tried to come yesterday and chickened out.

Sami woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by nearly everyone in NXT. He feels groggy and his body hurts and the room is spinning and _Kevin_ and _again_.

“Need a cell phone,” he slurs.

“Sami! You’re awake!” Everyone crowds around him, Cass standing a little way back but still towering over; all wearing matching looks of concern.

“Need a cell phone – gotta tell Kevin -” As Sami gropes vaguely at the air, the faces turn to ones of horror.

“Sami - ” Charlotte talks first. “Sami, he was there. He... saw.”

Sami’s brows knit up in confusion, unable to process this. “Saw – ?”

Now Finn pushes forwards, gently holding the folded-up champions belt in his hands like it was delicate porcelain and not thick leather and heavy metal. “Sami, you won, you won the match – we’re all so proud of you, by the way, you truly deserve the championship - ” Finn breaks into a wet-eyed wide grin and Sami can’t help but grin back because his friends really are the best and he loves them. Finn’s too broken up to continue, so Sami gestures until he leans in for a hug. They all pile in, and it feels just as good as it did on stage. He _won_.

And now he needs a cell phone.

It’s only after he asks the third time that he realises they must think he’s concussed, since Finn starts crying again and Bayley tries to explain in her gentlest words _your best friend tried to kill you again_ , but he waves them off.

“I know, I know all of that,” he insists, “but it’s fine, okay? I just want to text him.”

Enzo clears his throat and waves to Cass. “Me and Cass went down to the locker room, got your stuff,” he says. “Didn’t wanna be nosy or nothin, so I just kinda threw it all in there, hope that’s alright.” Cass drops Sami’s bag onto the hospital bed and Sami thanks them, rooting  for his phone between old sweatshirts and half-empty shampoo bottles Enzo apparently thought he needed.

“Sami I - ” Adrian puts a hand on his shoulder “Sami, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting these last few months. It was unfair and you don’t need that or deserve that. I’m not going to treat you like that again.”

Some part of Sami is pretty sure Adrian’s only saying this because he saw Sami getting brutally slammed into the apron only hours before, but he hadn’t been planning on holding a grudge anyway.

“Don’t worry, Adrian,” he says. “I know you’ve always had my back.” Hideo bites his lip as though he’s got some very strong emotions about who and when Sami trusts, which is sweet of him really, but Sami knew when he and Adrian hugged in the ring that things were fine between them, if they’d ever been un-fine.

 _Kevin, we need to talk. When are you free?_ Sami sends the message, not wanting to call with everyone there.

It’s an agonising twenty minutes before the response comes. Sami passes it talking to everyone, congratulating them on their matches, admiring Finn’s now slightly smudged body paint.

_No we don’t. You’re a shit wrestler and you’ve always been a shit wrestler. I should think that’s pretty clear._

And then:

_Good luck hanging onto that title, a glorified jobber like you’s gonna need it._

Sami sees red. He was so sure twenty minutes ago, so sure three hours ago in the ring, so sure months ago, but it was hard as hell right now to still be sure he likes Kevin _while_ he’s being Kevin. Most of the time Sami can just smile and look past this fucking persona he’s got, whatever the hell he was so dedicated to in Ring of Honour when he kept attacking Generico night after night, but while it’s actually happening he’s pissed off and doesn’t have time to put up with the bullshit.

 _My mark says Kevin Owens, asshole_ , is all he replies, then turns off his phone so Kevin can’t call him. There, he told him, which was all he wanted, right? Sami bits his lip and clutches at the folded belt until his knuckles turn white in a rush of professional anxiety. _Sami Zayn can’t win the big one..._

Luckily Emma bursts in at exactly that moment, arms overflowing with boxes of chocolate and packets of Red Vines she’s somehow managed to sneak past the nurses, and the whole room goes up in a cheer. Sami’s friends stay and keep him company long into the night.

* * *

 It’s four days before Kevin finally shows up at the hospital, the wilting _Get Well Soon_ balloon in his hand at least a day old. He either stole it from some kid’s room or he’d tried to come yesterday and chickened out. He stands in the doorway, hesitant. “I’m sorry,” is all he’s able to say in the end.

“You’re sorry? Sorry for what?” Sami knows it’s a dick way to start, but he’s trying to cut down on the pain meds and this isn’t the first time he’s woken up in a hospital because of Kevin and why didn’t he give Sami a chance to _tell_ him before he did what he did.

“Sorry you have to be stuck with me. I’ll... leave you alone.” He turns to go and Sami has to shout after him to even keep him in the doorframe.

“Kev! Kev you idiot, you think I’m mad at you because I want a different soulmate? I’m mad at you because you threw my spine into the edge of the ring!”

Kevin’s eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Kevin if breaking someone’s spine is your idea of romance, then you seriously -”

“Not that, just – me. I keep doing this to you.”

“Yeah, and I’d really appreciate it if you _stopped_ if I’m honest, I’m getting a little tired of waking up in hospitals covered in blood.”

Kevin looks down at his feet. “My blood this time,” he mutters, as if that changes anything.

Sami groans, tugging at his hair in frustration. “Kev, I like you, I’ve always liked you, I just need you to stop being such an asshole!”

“I am an asshole though.”

“Yeah maybe a little bit, but you were an asshole before you started trying to kill me and we were friends then, weren’t we?”

Kevin won’t stop frowning, but he does shut the door, leaning against the wall and looking into the ceiling lights instead of anywhere near Sami’s face.

“Can’t see why you’d like me,” he says.

“Kevin I’m not going to coddle your emotions while I’m still waiting to be discharged,” says Sami, not sure whether to laugh or roll his eyes. “I just figured you had a right to know is all.”

Then Kevin looks down at him, frowning, as though he’d just put something together. “Sami, you know you’re mine, right?”

“What?” says Sami, but Kevin’s already walking over there, lifting his shirt up and there, where Sami’s never seen before, letters running in a vertical down Kevin’s left side reading _Sami Zayn_.

Kevin stays standing there, with his t-shirt scrunched to his armpit long enough for Sami to read it, and he very considerately is taking into account that Sami needs to read it several times before his brain starts to make sense of anything. It strikes Sami that Kevin’s know about his own soulmate mark his whole life, which is a very long time, and that _his_ name is Sami Zayn.

“What?” is all he can think to say again, and Kevin slumps into a chair by the bed, grabbing a four day old pack of Red Vines and shoving one into his mouth. He doesn’t know how to process this, it hadn’t occurred to him –

“Oh my _god_ ,” says Kevin. “Look at your face. You didn’t even _wonder_ what mine said when you texted me? You were just gonna let me know out of the goodness of your heart? Didn’t even think about if your feelings were reciprocated?” He laughs the way he always laughs at Sami, smiling fondly. “You fucking _idiot_.”

Sami laughs too. “ _I’m_ the idiot? So when we first met you thought ‘oh hey that’s Sami Zayn, better sit on this information for the next twelve years or so’?”

Kevin punches him in the shoulder and it does hurt because Kevin’s never once pulled a single punch in his life. “Yeah, you’re still the idiot,” he says, and they both sit there for a minute, silent except for the sound of Kev gnawing on the disgusting Red Vines.

“So this is a thing, huh,” says Sami as Kevin finally gives up on the stale candy.

“Yeah. Soulmates. I’m pretty sure this is the bit where we’re suddenly disgustingly in love and all our troubles melt away or something.” Kevin’s voice sounds the way it always does, but he can’t seem to make eye contact and Sami spies a blush. He’s a good enough friend not to say anything.

“Well it’s not like me having feelings for you is new or anything,” he replies, and Kevin is definitely blushing. “But Kev, you have _got_ to stop powerbombing me into the apron. That shit hurts.”

Kevin huffs a laugh, and looking away can’t hide that his eyes are getting wet so Sami helps him save face by pulling him into a hug.

“If you insist, pal,” says Kevin, and Sami’s hair feels wet with tears. “Sami... I really am sorry.”

“I know you are, Kev. I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but I do.”

“This soulmate thing is fucked up.”

“Nah, it’s great. Soon as I get out of here I’m gonna buy you a dozen red roses and hire a violinist, okay?” Sami’s joking, but Kevin’s blushing bright pink now and Sami can’t contain his grin. He gives Kevin a peck on the cheek and Kevin jerks back in surprise, fingers rising to where Sami’s lips touched him. Sami feels his own blush starting now and looks away; they both need a minute to collect their bearings like the manly wrestling men they are.

“What are you going to tell the others?” asks Kevin.

“Oh, you know, I’ll probably tell them I’m concussed.”

Worry streaks across Kevin’s face. “You’re not, are you?”

“Oh come on, you’re not _that_ good,” Sami laughs.

Kevin bites his lip. “You are, you know? That good. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Stop apologising, you idiot, you think I can’t tell when you’re talking shit and when you aren’t?” Sami’s laughing but he is glad that Kevin did apologise. He knows now that Kevin didn’t mean it, but they both needed to hear it said out loud. Kevin buries his face in Sami’s neck again, just like he did in the ring; this time, neither of them is bleeding. Sami sighs a drained, happy sigh.

“You wanna be tag partners again?” Kevin asks.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You want me to pick you up when they discharge you?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to leave you alone so you can sleep?”

“No.” The world is getting fainter and fainter, but Sami can still feel Kevin’s warm breath on the back of his neck, the slight stickiness of where Kevin’s arms are hanging onto his own hospital-sweaty skin. Sami thinks, but isn’t sure, he feels the soft press of lips against his neck before Kevin slowly pulls away.

“Your back hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay pal. I’m gonna wait right here while you sleep, okay? Make sure nobody powerbombs you when you’re all soft and defenceless, which is all the time.”

“Yeah, they’d better not,” snorted Sami drowsily. “That’s your job.” And then Kevin ruffles his hair and then Sami’s fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEN THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND KEVIN NEVER ATTACKED SAMI AGAIN. 
> 
> Do jobbers even exist in a kayfabe universe? Is the story that Triple H slipped CJ Parker a few bucks to throw some matches and CJ said “I will commit any sin with my body if it means having the visibility to expose the sins mankind has done to the planet”? 
> 
> Anyway, please remember that in real life, Hideo and I both think you should not stay friends with people who powerbomb you and call you a bad wrestler. You’re a great, wrestler, dear reader. Believe in yourself.


End file.
